I enjoy the arrival of the English spring. The days lengthen and colour creeps into my garden displacing the grey winter. The birds find their voices and the insects emerge from the winter hideaways. The shrubs in our garden and trees on the estate take on hues of new greens and shades of red and luminous brown, or pink and white blossom. By day the birds begin to make their nests and by night the hedgehogs go on fattening-up raids.

I enjoy watching the birds from our conservatory. I will sit in the conservatory long enough to find out where they are making their nests. This year a pair of black caps used the bird box. Soon the nest-making finished, the flying activity stopped and the garden became very quiet. Then, as quickly as everything quietened down, all the activity started up again and I waited for the day when the garden would be full of fluttering fledglings. Sadly, the long-anticipated day never came.

Two new additions to the garden birds took up residence during the daylight hours. For hours they sat on the front fence preening their glossy feathers. One would have thought that they belonged at their post, representing two sentinels. However, these two jackdaws were intruders. Their task was to feast on the investment of the bird population in my garden. Their plan of action had to be admired. They took off for the back garden at strategic moments to strut across the back fence. As soon as a sparrow or finch appeared at the bird feeder these two predators would drop down into a bush. Within seconds they would quickly appear to devour the spoils of their raid. Their only adversaries were the blackbirds. These brave birds did their best to ward off these two wretched thieves but with only partial success. With the best will in the world these giants were too much for them.

These two jackdaws gave me an insight, I am sad to say, into one aspect of human behaviour which can have devastating repercussions. How often someone works really hard to achieve the best, not only for themselves but for someone else. They could be making sacrifices for a project to succeed, run a work-place well, give a surprise to someone they love, save for their family’s future. There could be any number of meaningful endeavours. However, the final moment of realisation never materialises. Someone else takes it for themselves leaving you with nothing and could destroy your character in the process. That is tough.

No amount of alarm calls from the blackbirds or cocking of their heads to one side of the bereft parent birds brought the young brood back. The behaviour of the birds reminded me of our behaviour when we find that we are the ones who lose out because of another’s greed or bad behaviour. We could find ourselves in a state of panic and bewilderment. Anger, resentment and revenge might feel like an option to appease our loss. We might run round in ever-decreasing circles unable to make sensible decisions. Our deepest feeling will be ‘This isn’t fair. It shouldn’t have happened to me.’ This may be true but in the end we will have to find a solution that enables us to pick life up again.

When our world falls apart in this way what will we do? Do we fall apart, give up and harbour grievances which could affect our health, or mental and emotional stability? Do we simmer away plotting revenge? Do we gather our pals together to form a water-tight defence? Are we tempted to bury our head in the sand or to plan an escape route where no one will hopefully ever find where we are? Once more we can learn from the birds in our garden. They never gave up. The next broods are almost ready to fledge and the intruders as yet have not appeared on the scene. Persevere with the knowledge that we did what was right and another’s wrong robbed us of what was rightfully ours. It might be an opportunity to re-assess but we must never let ourselves be destroyed.